


Dirty Iced Chai Latte

by celestialmuse



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Camboys, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Atsumu is hot and Sakusa is thirsty, Author does not take responsibility for nor condone the number of espresso shots consumed, Barista!Sakusa, Camboy!Atsumu, M/M, Porn With Plot, Sakusa is thinking with his dick, Sakusa stans ethical porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 10:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28469583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialmuse/pseuds/celestialmuse
Summary: “Good evening, what can—” Kiyoomi stopped midway upon noticing his newest customer. He cleared his throat and managed to finish his sentence, mentally slapping himself on the back for being a doofus the second time around as well. “What can I get for you today?”The blond-hottie was back again and Kiyoomi realized he needed to stop calling him different descriptive monikers in his head as he flashed the most gorgeous smile at Kiyoomi. He needed a name to match the face.“Hi, could I please grab a dirty iced chai—”“With four shots?” Kiyoomi finished.“Haha, yeah. You remembered!” he said, beaming at Kiyoomi and Kiyoomi felt his ears get warm.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 213





	Dirty Iced Chai Latte

**Author's Note:**

> Happy new year! I really hope this year is collectively slightly better for all of us than 2020. Here's a little PWP with a smidge of plot to start the year off 😉

Kiyoomi could feel a headache form behind his eyes. It was only five past eight in the morning. So Kiyoomi had only worked a little over one hour but it felt like Kiyoomi had already clocked in his daily six hours. Today was going to be a long day. 

He had been getting the most ridiculous drink requests for such an early hour. Two pumps caramel, one pump chocolate, five pumps sugar, extra whipped cream and one shot of espresso. That wasn’t coffee, that was liquid sugar. It was too early for these requests to come in. One customer had wanted matcha sprinkled in between layers of whipped cream in the largest cup they served. That’s it. That was the ‘drink’ request. Another had wanted three pumps of strawberry syrup with three espresso shots in coconut milk. Kiyoomi hoped that the man wasn’t taking public transport because that was bound to make some weird spelling puke. He also hoped he had burnt his taste buds somewhere along his life because there was no other excuse for that drink. 

Kiyoomi contemplated quitting his job as he mechanically filled in one drink order after another. His body desired a roof to sleep under and his stomach really wanted some food in it. So, that was a no to quitting this godforsaken job. 

“You look ready to murder someone,” the manager, an enigmatic beauty named Kiyoko said as she approached him.

“Would have already if it weren’t illegal,” Kiyoomi said. 

“Go take over the cashier for a bit.” Kiyoomi was grateful for the break from mixing drinks because he might have made good on the homicidal urges he had if he had to mix one more ridiculous drink before 10 am. Where did all these people come from?

Kiyoomi took a deep breath, readjusted his mask and schooled his eyebrows into neutral position before making it to the counter. Time to break out the customer service voice. Not his best customer service voice, though. The heathens today don’t deserve it. 

“Good morning, what can I get for you today?” Kiyoomi asked the short woman with mousey hair and she started rattling off her order without even bothering to return Kiyoomi’s greeting. He contemplated going back to the drink station to make her drink so he could spit in it. “Thank you. Your order will be ready shortly.” Kiyoomi’s lips had already settled themselves into a downward curve but his favorite customer service trick—his face mask—should keep the unimpressed expression fairly concealed from his customers. Rinse. Repeat.

A steady stream of customers assaulted him with their early morning orders before it finally let up a bit around half-past nine. Kiyoomi was occupying his hands with cleaning the countertops until they were nice and shiny—one of the few satisfying things about having nice granite countertops at his workplace was that they physically showed when they had been cleaned well and Kiyoomi had made it his one-minute stress relief hack at work to make them as shiny as possible to calm himself down—as the tiny bell above the door jingled announcing yet another caffeine-and-sugar hunter. Kiyoomi folded the rag and hung it to dry, keeping his eyes studiously trained on his feet, and took a deep breath before turning to the counter, customer service eyebrows in neutral position. 

“Good mor—” The greeting died on Kiyoomi’s lips as he finally looked at the customer.  _ Holy shit. _ He was drop-dead gorgeous. Bleached hair styled back in waves, flawless skin, bright hazel eyes, blindingly white teeth,  _ and _ a stunning smile. Was there a modeling shoot going on nearby? Who was this man? Definitely not one of his regulars and Kiyoomi was willing to bet money that he had never stepped foot into this coffee shop before because Kiyoomi would have definitely noticed someone this good-looking if they had ever visited before. He looked like an angel. A god, maybe. His hair was light enough to give the illusion of a halo around his head and Kiyoomi had the irrational urge to reach out and run his fingers through his hair. 

The customer delicately cocked an eyebrow, impeccable smile still in place. Oh. Right. Kiyoomi had choked on his greeting. 

He cleared his throat and tried again. “Good morning. What can I get for you today?”

“Good morning!” chirped the hot-model-god. Good lord, why was his voice so hot? It was silky and deep and Kiyoomi had an unprecedented need to make conversation with this customer. Crazy. Kiyoomi hated talking to customers any more than necessary because small talk was for polite fools and Kiyoomi was neither polite nor a fool. But for this man, Kiyoomi was suddenly willing to be a little bit foolish, perhaps. 

The customer sheepishly scratched the back of his neck and his smile turned shy. “Could I please get a dirty iced chai latte with, um, four shots? Umm, if you do iced chais?” Doesn’t matter. This is far from the most outlandish drink request Kiyoomi had filled in today.Kiyoomi was ready to head to South Asia and pluck tea leaves to make all the iced chais this man wanted. “Of course. Would you like anything else with that?” 

Blond-hottie shook his head. “Could I take that to go?”

Kiyoomi nodded and put his order through to Kiyoko, who hadn’t even broken a sweat in the past hour, filling up one drink after the other. 

“Morning Kiyoomi!” Motoya said, beaming at him as he brought in a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls and exchanged the trays in the display shelf. “Kill anyone yet?” he asked casually and Kiyoomi had never wanted to strangle his cousin more. Okay, maybe that was a lie. He had definitely wanted to kill Motoya more when he had thrown up in his car while blackout drunk and just laughed it off the next day when Kiyoomi had recounted it to him. But the hot stranger did not need to know about Kiyoomi’s general hatred for his customers or rush hour, okay? It was his right as a barista to hate people a bit. 

Kiyoomi shot him a dirty look as he picked up the beautiful stranger’s order and placed it on the counter. “Thank you!” the customer said gratefully as he took a sip from the cup, sighed in happiness and dashed out of the door. Oh well, there goes Kiyoomi’s eye candy. It was good while it lasted. And, he had forgotten to get his name. Great. Well done, Kiyoomi!

“Cute, eh?” Motoya commented, looking past the door. Kiyoomi nodded and sighed. At least Toya had good taste in men and understood Kiyoomi at a non-verbal level so he could forgive him for today. The door jingled again and the two cousins looked up together. Another customer. Rinse. Repeat. 

Kiyoomi didn’t even remember the rest of the shift. The pace quickly picked up again with the lunch hour crowd and Kiyoomi felt bone-deep relief when he clocked out at one. The heathens were Iizuna’s problem now. 

He slapped on his noise-canceling earphones and made the thirty-minute trek home, silently cursing the heat. The sweet relief of air conditioning in his tiny studio apartment reminded Kiyoomi that all the hard work going towards paying for this little shoebox of a home was so worth it. 

He had an indulgent shower and a quick lunch before moving on to studying for his law exam next week and finishing up a quiz that was due in two days. It was dark outside by the time Kiyoomi finished. He stood up and stretched his limbs, joints cracking and popping one by one, deciding it was time for a little treat for his full day of hard work. 

Kiyoomi moved to his queen-sized bed and made himself comfortable on a pair of pillows before pulling up his OnlyFans account. He had decided to subscribe to a few choice content creators two months ago after hearing about the platform from a bunch of friends at uni. Kiyoomi was all for ethically sourced porn and really disliked the treatment of porn stars in the industry. He figured self-produced porn was probably more authentic and the creators directly earned the money without being exploited for their bodies. The three people he had subscribed to also had exquisite bodies and charged very reasonable amounts for the videos and pictures they put out. It was the best tradeoff for him getting his dose of porn without contributing to the demeaning porn industry.

He plugged in his earphones and pulled up his favorite creator, littlefox7, and tapped on his latest video. The man never showed his face in his videos, but Kiyoomi figured he couldn’t be too bad with a body like that. He had a toned body with rippling muscles, defined abs and lean biceps. But if Kiyoomi had to guess what made him stand out from other content creators, he would pick his thighs. Littlefox7 had thick, sinewy thighs that looked strong enough to crush watermelons and they were the centerpiece of all of his videos. The very reason Kiyoomi had decided to continue his subscription was those thighs. His body was so different from Kiyoomi’s—thick and strong as opposed to long and lean—and he was exactly Kiyoomi’s type. 

The video started up showing the man kneeling on his white comforter, the camera focused below his neck. He was wearing white lace panties and matching thigh-high stockings that strained over his thighs, a black dildo resting in between his legs. Kiyoomi sighed as he cupped himself over his boxers and stroked lightly over his length. The man crawled closer to the camera and started running his fingers over his pecs, down his abs, and back up before pinching a nipple and letting out a breathy moan. He sounded so nice to Kiyoomi’s ears. He kept plucking and twisting his nipples, arching his back into his own touch and rolling his body as he slowly worked himself up. He was visibly hard now, cock straining against the lace, a tiny wet patch forming at the tip. He switched to running his fingertips lazily over his thighs, avoiding his cock, and snapped the band of the stockings against his thighs. Kiyoomi’s dick twitched at the visual. He vaguely wondered how nice it would be to grip those thighs and mark them up since they always looked so untouched and unclaimed on the videos. 

Kiyoomi watched him lightly run his fingertips over the length of his cock and shudder at the contact, biting his lip against a moan. He then slipped his panties off delicately and tossed them aside, hard cock fully on display, sitting thick and heavy between his thighs. Kiyoomi gripped his own cock harder over his boxers and groaned at the sensation. He was hard and leaking, but he wouldn’t last all the way to the end of the video if he went any faster and Kiyoomi really wanted to enjoy every second of it.

The man on the camera turned around, showing his devoted audience his plump, firm ass and the puckered pink hole that was yet to be breached. He grabbed an ass cheek and massaged it before spanking it hard— _ slap _ —turning the pale flesh pink with heat. He spanked himself a few more times before running a finger over his hole and gently massaging it in circles. His hand went off-camera—for some lube, Kiyoomi assumed—and came back to slather some clear liquid around his hole before plunging one finger in, slowly working it in and out until it was knuckle deep. Then a second finger went in and Kiyoomi could not get rid of his boxers quickly enough. He tossed them aside uncaringly and finally gripped his cock harder and gave it two strokes, relishing the friction. He reached out for his own pump of lube and teasingly worked it over his length with just his fingertips as he watched the other man work in his third finger, stretching his hole and grinding into his own hand as he moaned. 

Kiyoomi wrapped his hands around his length and squeezed the base, watching his on-screen partner withdraw his fingers with a squelch and flip himself around to lie against the headboard of his bed and face the camera. He rubbed some lube over his dildo before positioning it at his entrance and slowly pushed it in, inch by inch. Kiyoomi matched his slow pace as he moved his hand from tip to base, imagining it was his cock going inside instead of the dildo. 

The man withdrew the dildo until just the tip was inside him and then pushed it all back in. Kiyoomi groaned as he watched the dildo disappear inside him again and again, matching the pace of his hand to the pace of the dildo. He watched the other man subtly shift the angle of his wrist until he hit his prostate and had to grip the base of his cock to stop himself from coming from the sinful moan that flowed into his ear when the dildo first hit his prostate. Then it became a race to see who could come first; Kiyoomi, moving his fist at a steady pace or his on-screen counterpart, basically fucking into his dildo at this point. They both came at the same time, identical moans leaving their mouths as white painted one’s sheets and the other’s abs. 

Kiyoomi sighed as he dropped his phone next to him and folded his arm across his eyes. Fuck. He’d desperately needed that. He was too tired to move a bone, so he fished under his bed looking for the discarded pair of boxers and wiped his stomach clean before tossing them on the floor again and falling asleep.

.o0o.

Kiyoomi thanked his fastidious tendencies for setting an automatic alarm for his workdays, or he would not have woken up in time for his classes the next day. He chugged his coffee on the train and diligently took his notes in class, and even managed to hold back his tongue when his professor mixed up the definitions of femtoseconds and picoseconds. He miraculously managed to make it to work fifteen minutes before his shift started and that was very rare for Kiyoomi. He had a bad habit of making it in two minutes before, simply so he could minimize interactions with some of his coworkers, or even worse, customers. He considered it a fairly good day, all-in-all.

He nodded his customary greeting to Kiyoko and Iizuna, received a kick to the shin from Motoya (apparently that was a greeting but Kiyoomi was convinced it was petty payback for wishing him a happy birthday one day late last week) and eventually made it to the cashier. Customers started trickling in, the pace and volume picking up by the minute as the end of day peak hours set in. Kiyoomi greeted the tired salarymen, teachers, mothers, and bankers in the same monotonous premium customer service voice while efficiently filling out their orders.

“Good evening, what can—” Kiyoomi stopped midway upon noticing his newest customer. He cleared his throat and managed to finish his sentence, mentally slapping himself on the back for being a doofus the second time around as well. “What can I get for you today?”

The blond-hottie was back again and Kiyoomi realized he needed to stop calling him different descriptive monikers in his head as he flashed the most gorgeous smile at Kiyoomi. He needed a name to match the face.

“Hi, could I please grab a dirty iced chai—”

“With four shots?” Kiyoomi finished. 

“Haha, yeah. You remembered!” he said, beaming at Kiyoomi and Kiyoomi felt his ears get warm. 

Kiyoomi simply nodded. “Can I get a name to go with that order?”

“Atsumu.”

Ah, a name that somehow really matched his face. A pretty name for a pretty face. “Right. Your order will be ready soon Atsumu. Have a good day.”

“Thanks, uh…” he petered off, his eyes searching Kiyoomi’s uniform for a name tag.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“Ah, thanks, Kiyoomi,” he said, smiling and moving to the collection area. 

Kiyoomi nudged Iizuna and asked him to take over the counter as he quickly made Atsumu’s drink. After quick consideration, he scribbled his number on Atsumu’s cup and took it to the man himself. 

“There you go,” he said, placing the cup on the counter and sliding it over to Atsumu. He watched Atsumu’s eyes light up at the sight of his drink as he grabbed it and brought the straw towards his mouth. He paused abruptly as if remembering that Kiyoomi was still here and quickly chirped out a thank you before taking a sip and closing his eyes to savor the drink. Kiyoomi watched his lips shape into an O around the straw and felt warm seeing him savor the drink he made. He hoped he would see the number scribbled on the side before it rubbed off from the condensation. 

As he turned around to return to the drink station he saw Atsumu lift the cup up to eye level and squint at it. Oh. He saw the number.

Kiyoomi quickly shuffled to the drinks station and busied himself with filling out the drink orders and tried to not look at Atsumu who was openly gaping at him. Several cups of coffee later—thankfully actual coffee, not fancy liquid sugar—he bravely lifted his head and scanned the crowds inside the shop. Atsumu was nowhere to be seen.

Kiyoomi felt an inexplicable sense of disappointment settle in his gut as he pushed through the rest of his shift. 

He made it to the end of his shift alive and clocked out without bidding farewell to anyone. He was dead tired and wanted to sink into his bed and fall asleep for a week. His regular thirty-minute walk home felt like it dragged on for hours, and he had to give himself a pep talk to hop into the shower before bed—usually Kiyoomi’s favorite part of his bedtime routine but he was too exhausted to even enjoy his scalding shower today. Thankfully, he wasn’t capable of falling asleep on his feet or he just might have done that in the shower. Kiyoomi didn’t remember making it to bed until he woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the windows. He had forgotten to draw curtains closed the night before.

He groaned and rolled over, stuffing his face into the pillow. Thankfully it was Saturday, which meant no work or classes. He could finally catch some rest and maybe catch up on lectures today. What time was it anyway?

He blindly swiped at his side table until he located his phone and squinted at the screen. A new message from an unknown number was waiting for him.

>> 23:15

_ Hey, it’s Atsumu. Thought I’d message u since u left me ur number. :) _

Oh, so he had messaged him after all.

<<09:11

_ Hey sorry. Fell asleep and didn’t see your message last night. _

The reply came in almost immediately.

_ >> _ 09:12

_ Rough night? _

_ << _ 09:12

_ Long day.  _

_ Any plans for today? _

Kiyoomi rolled out of bed and made it to his kitchenette, filled up the kettle, and threw in a tea bag into his mug before heading to the bathroom. He rinsed his face with cold water and threw on a pair of boxers. Turns out he had been too tired to even dress after his shower last night. 

>>09:17

_ Nah, no plans. Finally a rest day actually. My week was packed. What abt urs? _

Kiyoomi poured boiling water over his teabag as he read the latest message. He inhaled the aroma of fresh black tea before pouring in a bit of milk and saved Atsumu’s number into his contacts before making a snap decision.

<< To Atsumu 09:29

_ Same. Hectic week for me, but then every week is hectic. Wanna hang out and do something chill today? _

The reply didn’t come in the next few minutes and Kiyoomi was happy to accept that Atsumu simply wanted his alone time and didn’t want to hang out with him. He couldn’t find it in himself to blame the man, really. Kiyoomi knew how paramount alone time was to his mental health. 

He settled himself into his favorite armchair and sipped at his tea, admiring the endless view of buildings outside of his window and felt a pang of homesickness for the trees around his home and the abundance of plants in his mother’s backyard. 

His phone chimed, interrupting his reverie.

>> From Atsumu 09:47

_ Sure, as long as it’s chill. Wanna grab a bite and watch a movie or something? _

<<To Atsumu 09:50

_ My place? I’ll provide the snacks and movies. _

>>From Atsumu 09:51

_ Sick deal ;) Send me the time and place. I’ll be there. Any drink requests? _

Kiyoomi snorted. He had a feeling he was either going to immensely enjoy Atsumu’s company or want to shove his foot up his arse.

<<To Atsumu 09:56

_ Beer? Wine? Your pick, make sure it doesn’t taste lousy. _

>>From Atsumu 09:59

_ My taste is always impeccable Omi. :P _

Kiyoomi almost spat his tea back into his mug at the new nickname. He quickly typed out his address and asked him to swing around 3 pm before he changed his mind.

Atsumu arrived punctually, swinging a six-pack of beer in one hand and two bottles of wine in the other. He grinned broadly at Kiyoomi, presenting his spoils for assessment.

“Not bad, heh, Omi?” Atsumu challenged as he took off his shoes at the entrance.

“Proof of the pudding, Atsumu.” He showed him over to his couch facing the TV and let him make himself comfortable. 

“Pshh, fine,” Atsumu said. “I’ll wait for the praise after you taste it then.”

Kiyoomi shook his head as he brought over homemade popcorn chicken, chili chips, and mini club sandwiches and got them started on the newest Spiderman movie.

Atsumu kept up a steady stream of commentary throughout the movie pointing out plot holes, bad acting, and made fun of the characters on screen. Normally, Kiyoomi would have found this extremely irritating and wouldn’t have hesitated to kick his company out, but with Atsumu, it was almost… endearing. Sometimes, his jokes were even funny. Kiyoomi had even started growing fond of his new pet name.

They steadily worked through the bowl of popcorn chicken and emptied the beer; halfway through the first bottle of wine, the first movie ended. Atsumu eyed Kiyoomi as he selected the next movie in the franchise and clicked start.

“Omi, am I only here to watch movies with you?” Atsumu asked, tongue tracing the rim of the wineglass as he watched Kiyoomi return to his seat.

“Well… we both wanted to chill, so unless you have better ideas, yeah. I was going to stick to movies,” Kiyoomi said, eyeing him back. He was hoping Atsumu would take the bait and ask for more so he didn’t have to look greedy. He already gave him his number after all.

Atsumu hummed. “Yeah, we did want a chill day off huh.” He fixed his eyes on the screen and took another sip of wine, studiously avoiding Kiyoomi’s scrutinizing stare. Gorgeous bastard.

Fine. Guess he was going to have to ask for what he wanted. To hell with looking greedy. He wasn’t about to lose out on getting a piece of Atsumu. 

“I do have another idea… in case you were interested,” Kiyoomi said, eyes focused on the movie starting to play.

“Yeah? Do tell, Omi-Omi.” Atsumu smiled coyly over his glass, eyes watching Kiyoomi now.

“I think it would be better if I showed you instead.” Kiyoomi placed his wineglass on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch, making himself comfortable. He beckoned to Atsumu, crooking one finger, and patted his lap with the other hand.

Atsumu’s eyes lit up and he hurriedly put his glass down before crawling across the couch and straddling Kiyoomi’s lap. “This where ya wanted me, Omi?” he purred, comfortably seating himself on Kiyoomi’s lap, wiggling his butt around to find a comfortable position. Kiyoomi took his time, letting his eyes feast upon Atsumu.

He was an incredibly handsome man, even prettier than he remembered when first meeting him. His bright hazel eyes promised mischief and warmth and Kiyoomi wanted to drown in them. He appreciatively ran his hand along Atsumu’s sides, cupping his hips and sliding down his legs. Woah, those were some built thighs. Despite the jeans between his hands and Atsumu’s thighs, Kiyoomi could tell that they were likely toned and thick. He couldn’t wait to get his hands and mouth on them.

“Yeah, this is where I wanted you,” Kiyoomi murmured as he squeezed Atsumu’s thighs, once, twice. 

“Good. I was hoping you gave me your number for a reason.” Atsumu smirked above him, looping his arms around Kiyoomi’s shoulders and rolling his hips on Kiyoomi’s lap, the friction barely enough for any real sensation but the move drove Kiyoomi wild. 

He gripped Atsumu’s hips and pulled them flush against his, making Atsumu hiss at the sudden movement. “Good. I did give it to you for a reason.” Kiyoomi cocked his head and took in the image of Atsumu straddling his lap, a flush high on his cheeks, pupils blown wide and panting a bit. This sight alone was going to be enough wanking material for weeks to come. 

He flipped them over the couch making Atsumu yelp like a little kitten, Kiyoomi’s body weight pinning him down with one hand holding both of Atsumu’s above his head. Kiyoomi smirked at the sound. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to devour this beautiful man underneath him.

“May I?” Kiyoomi asked, his own voice coming out a bit breathy.

“Please,” Atsumu groaned, trying to pitch his hips up to meet Kiyoomi’s. 

Kiyoomi lunged for him, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. His lips were warm and soft, tongue carrying the taste of the wine they had just shared. The taste and warmth were intoxicating and Kiyoomi wanted more. He bit and tugged at Atsumu’s lower lip, then swiped his tongue over it to soothe it over. Atsumu’s tongue brushed against his upper lip and he opened his mouth to let him in. They traced the textures of each other's mouths, tongues tasting and devouring. Kiyoomi licked into Atsumu’s mouth, their tongues sliding against each other, warm and wet. He moved his mouth to Atsumu’s chin, peppering wet kisses along his jawline until he reached the spot where his jaw met his neck. He sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, pulling out a groan from Atsumu, making him buck up into Kiyoomi.

He sucked and licked the same spot until it was pink and he was sure it would bloom into purple by the next day. He languidly continued his journey down Atsumu’s neck, sucking and biting the soft flesh, leaving marks here and there while Atsumu writhed impatiently underneath him. 

“Omiiiiiii” he whined. “Let me touch you.” Kiyoomi smiled into Atsumu’s neck before releasing his hands and sitting back on his heels. Atsumu huffed impatiently and tugged at the hem of Kiyoomi’s t-shirt. “Off.” 

Kiyoomi happily obliged, shedding his top and grabbed Atsumu’s hands, placing them over his pecs and running them down slowly over his nipples, his abs, and down to where a small trail of hair disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Atsumu progressively looked more and more awed and embarrassed in equal parts, contrary to how eager he had been to get Kiyoomi undressed. 

“Fuck,” Atsumu gasped. “You’re so fucking hot.”

The red flush had spread down to his neck now and Kiyoomi wanted to see if his chest was beautifully pink too. “Let me see you,” Kiyoomi said as he tugged Atsumu’s shirt and jeans off. 

Kiyoomi had to remind himself how to breathe at the sight of Atsumu in his boxers. If he had thought Atsumu was hot before, he looked divine now. “Holy fuck.” It was Kiyoomi’s turn to blush now. Atsumu was gorgeous. He had a beautifully sculpted body, but oh lord, his  _ thighs _ . Fuck, fuck fuck. His thighs looked delicious. They were corded with thick muscle, sinfully supple and ready to be devoured. Kiyoomi’s mouth watered and his dick twitched at the sight. He traced his fingers along the length of Atsumu’s thighs and back up, touching, squeezing, feeling. The vague thought that he wouldn’t mind dying between these thighs passed through his head. The thighs also looked vaguely familiar, but that was both stupid and impossible. Kiyoomi would  _ know _ if someone even remotely hot as Atsumu had ever graced his eyes before. He would never be able to forget seeing Atsumu naked or  _ fucking _ him.

The sound of Atsumu’s chuckle cut through his haze of thought. “Like what you see, Omi?”

“I fucking love it,” Kiyoomi growled before diving back in to kiss Atsumu feverishly, tongues and limbs tangling in their race to touch and get a taste of each other. Atsumu moaned into Kiyoomi’s mouth and tugged at his curls, eliciting a growl from Kiyoomi that was swallowed by Atsumu’s mouth. He moved lower, wrapping his lips around Atsumu’s nipple flicking the bud lightly with his tongue until Atsumu was whimpering under him and chanting his name, his nails digging into Kiyoomi’s hair and back. He treated the other nipple equally, tugging at the nub with his teeth, making Atsumu scream. His neighbors might have a noise complaint tomorrow but that would be a small price to pay to bed one Atsumu. 

His tongue traced the defined dips of Atsumu’s abs and circled his navel, making Atsumu giggle. “O-Omi, that ti-tickles,” Atsumu gasped in between little giggles as Kiyoomi pressed butterfly kisses around his navel. What a pretty sound that was. 

Kiyoomi couldn’t resist sinking his teeth into the side of Atsumu’s hip as he tugged on the waistband of his boxers. He was too pretty unmarked and Kiyoomi had some primal instinct in him awakened, wanting to stake his claim on Atsumu. Atsumu wailed as one hand shot up to tangle in Kiyoomi’s curls.

With his boxers tossed aside, Atsumu laid there on Kiyoomi’s couch, completely naked and panting, his lips swollen and glossy with spit, marks blooming across the pale skin of his neck and chest and his sinful little mouth panting Kiyoomi’s name. Something about this scene made the deja vu antenna in Kiyoomi’s head tingle. But it had no reason to. Kiyoomi’s mouth moved to Atsumu’s inner thighs, kissing the skin gently at first before sinking his teeth into the soft flesh at his groin. 

“Fuu-hhh-ck Omi, fuck fuck.” Atsumu moaned, holding on to the couch for dear life. 

Kiyoomi continue biting and sucking on the inside of his thighs, working his way down and switching between both legs until both legs sported beautiful blossoming pink patches. Kiyoomi felt some innate part of himself satisfied at the sight and pressed a quick kiss to Atsumu’s mouth, whispering soothing things in his ear and caressing his cheeks.

Kiyoomi ran the back of his knuckles gently across Atsumu’s thighs, from the knee to the crease of his hip, before wrapping his fist around the base of Atsumu’s cock and giving it a firm stroke. The straight-up depraved moan that left Atsumu’s mouth hit Kiyoomi like a punch to the gut—it left him with the dizzying realization that he had seen this before. He had heard this before too.

His voice. His thighs. Atsumu was littlefox7? Kiyoomi’s favorite OnlyFans camboy? What in the ever-loving fuck was going on?

Atsumu must have noticed something off about Kiyoomi. He tugged at Kiyoom’s hand and looked at him pleadingly. “Omi?”

Kiyoomi felt like he was in a fever dream. Actually, a wet dream. Kiyoomi’s teenage self would probably judgingly applaud him for basically achieving every teenage boy’s fantasy of fucking their favorite pornstar. Except, said pornstar was also Kiyoomi’s new favorite customer who he was harboring a maybe-crush against and was currently panting under him and begging him for more. 

Kiyoomi’s mind was spinning with the realization and he didn’t know what to do.

“Uh Atsumu, do you have an OnlyFans?” Kiyoomi blurted. Atsumu froze. The clock was suddenly ticking slower, each second more pronounced than the one before as Kiyoomi watched Atsumu’s face morph from unbridled ecstasy to one of pure shock. He saw his mouth form shapes in slow motion,  _ “what the fuck?” _ before he felt the air exit his lungs as a swift kick landed on his stomach. 

Kiyoomi doubled over and tumbled off the couch, hit the edge of his hip against the coffee table, and yelled loudly. Atsumu screamed as he jumped off the couch and somehow managed to land in a fighting stance, arms braced in front of his face. Kiyoomi couldn’t figure out if his eyes were watering because he felt like he got shot in his hip or because Atsumu’s metaphorical ninja sword was his hard dick. Either way, he was wheezing for breath, arms up in a defensive position. The last thing he needed was to get murdered by a naked man practicing martial arts while he was trying to bone him. 

“Hold up,” Kiyoomi gasped, still clutching his side, boner still going strong despite his confusion and panic. Kiyoomi was a young and healthy man, he had kinks, and his dick knew what it liked. 

“Are you fucking stalking me?” Atsumu screamed, crouching lower into his fighting stance. His face was as red as his hard and leaking cock. Noted. “Are you a stalker? Who the fuck are you?”

“I just—your thighs—I’ve seen them before. I’m one of your fans,” Kiyoomi said. Atsumu cocked an eyebrow incredulously. “Subscribers, I meant,” Kiyoomi hastily corrected himself.

“You fucking figured out who I am by my thighs? What?” 

“I swear. It’s your thighs. I couldn’t figure out who you were until I saw you, like, naked. I love your thighs!” Kiyoomi had crawled on to all fours now, one arm still braced in front of him just in case Atsumu decided to hit him. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the OnlyFans. He definitely shouldn’t have mentioned the OnlyFans. 

“This is bullshit!” Atsumu stood up straight and clutched at his hair, letting out a semi-human whine. Kiyoomi could hear him muttering under his breath but decided not to move from his spot in case he got brained by a cornered hot camboy. Kiyoomi was still hard. 

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi said quietly. “I swear. I didn’t know who you were.” Kiyoomi paused, contemplating if he should go on. “I just thought you were… incredibly handsome… when I gave you my number. I didn’t know who you were until like five minutes ago.” 

Atsumu turned around and gave him an assessing look, chewing his lower lip between his teeth. Kiyoomi was happy to chew on his lower lip for him while he thought about whatever he needed to think. 

Kiyoomi watched Atsumu rearrange his expression into something Kiyoomi didn’t have the brainpower to discern. “Ya still wanna fuck?”

Kiyoomi didn’t have to be asked twice. “Fuck, yes,” he growled before he basically pounced on Atsumu, pinning him against the wall, their lips clashing. Their kisses were all tongue and teeth, the unspoken and confusing swirl of emotions pouring out of them. Kiyoomi pawed at Atsumu’s thighs and hooked his hands around his knees to lift him up. Atsumu wrapped his legs tightly around Kiyoomi’s waist, his fingers roughly pulling at Kiyoomi’s curls, never bothering to break their kiss to come up for air.

Kiyoomi dropped Atsumu on the couch and Atsumu landed with a soft  _ oof _ . He blindly swiped around in the drawer of the little table to the side of the couch until his hand located the bottle of lube. 

“Faster,” Atsumu demanded, panting. 

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes and bent over to bite and tug on his nipple as he poured some lube on his fingers. Atsumu yelped, his fingernails digging into Kiyoomi’s shoulders. He would definitely have some battle scars to take care of tomorrow. He moved back up to nose at Atsumu’s throat as he slid one finger into his hole. Atsumu was warm. So, so warm and Kiyoomi suddenly craved to be inside him. 

Atsumu mewled when Kiyoomi slid a second finger in and started scissoring him open. “Omi! Oh-Omi, please— _ hnngggg. _ ” Atsumu panted into Kiyoomi’s mouth as he greedily lapped up all the delicious sounds coming out of Atsumu’s mouth.

“Yes, Atsumu?” Kiyoomi asked teasingly. 

“P-please  _ uhhh _ .” Atsumu’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as Kiyoomi’s fingers brushed against his prostate. He went back to stretching him out, ignoring the little bundle of nerves until Atsumu was writhing and begging him again. 

“Please, fuck,  _ more—mmhhmmpp. _ ” Kiyoomi cut him off with a hard kiss as he slid in a third finger and massaged his prostate with every slide of his hand. “Yes, yes,  _ yesssss _ ,” Atsumu hissed as Kiyoomi ground his cock, still covered by his boxers, against Atsumu’s bare and very wet cock. “Keep going, more— _ hnnnggahhhh— _ fuck, fuck.” Utter filth spewed out of Atsumu’s mouth as he bucked up into Kiyoomi’s touch and ground his hips to meet the thrust of Kiyoomi’s fingers.

Moans spilled out of Atsumu’s mouth and his hips bucked wildly. Kiyoomi knew he was close and immediately withdrew his fingers. Atsumu whimpered and made grabby hands for Kiyoomi as he sat back on his heels. “Omiiii,” Atsumu sobbed. “Why did you stop?”

He looked adorable. Cheeks flushed and blotchy, eyes glassed over, and mouth keening for Kiyoomi. He couldn’t resist pressing a brief kiss to Atsumu’s mouth. “I want you to come on my cock, Atsumu,” Kiyoomi whispered against his mouth. Atsumu audibly gasped against his mouth and blushed harder, if that was even possible. 

Kiyoomi quickly slipped out of his boxers and slipped on a condom, making sure to slather a generous amount of lube on his cock. He kneeled between Atsumu’s legs and pressed a flurry of little kisses on the inside of his thigh, biting the soft flesh and sucking on it, leaving another little bruise to match the rest, before lining the tip of his cock against Atsumu’s entrance. He pushed in slowly, just the head breaching Atsumu’s hole and they both groaned in unison.

Kiyoomi kissed across Atsumu’s collarbones and nibbled on them as he continued pushing in slowly until he bottomed out. Atsumu was warm and pliant and Kiyoomi wanted to keep his cock inside him forever.

“You okay?” he asked, breathing hard against Atsumu’s mouth.

“Yeah, just—give me a minute.” Atsumu held on tight to Kiyoomi’s shoulders as he returned his kisses with fervor. “Okay, move.”

Kiyoomi slowly pulled out and pushed back in, watching Atsumu let out a satisfied little sigh. He kept his thrusts shallow, building up into a steady rhythm. Their hands caressed each other, tracing the little dips and divots in each other’s skin.

Kiyoomi hooked Atsumu’s knee up in one arm and thrusted experimentally. He watched Atsumu’s eyes fly wide open as a gasp punched out of him. Bingo.

“OmiOmiOmi,” Atsumu chanted as Kiyoomi smirked and thrusted in repeatedly, hitting the same spot over and over again. “Fuck, Omi, please, don’t stop  _ aaaahhhh _ right there, fuckkkk,” Atsumu cursed, as Kiyoomi single-mindedly fucked him into oblivion. “Fuck, I’m so close, fuckfuckfuck,  _ Kiyoomi _ !”

Atsumu came with a scream, ropes of come painting his abs and chest. The very sight made Kiyoomi come almost instantly. He emptied himself inside Atsumu with a groan, his nose pressed against the inside of Atsumu’s thigh. “Fuck,” Kiyoomi cursed. 

Kiyoomi gingerly pulled out of Atsumu and rolled his condom off to dispose of it. They had made a mess and Atsumu looked too blissed out to move. He squeezed Atsumu’s calf telling him he will be right back and grabbed a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean them both up. 

He slipped his boxers back on and eventually helped Atsumu wiggle into his own boxers because he had trouble standing up without help. Kiyoomi mentally applauded himself for his performance. 

He sat back on the couch and Atsumu wiggled his head onto his lap and closed his eyes. Kiyoomi couldn’t help but card his fingers through Atsumu’s hair and gently massage his scalp—Atsumu reminded him of a giant cat right now, eyes closed and completely pliant under Kiyoomi’s touch. 

Of course, there was the elephant in the room that needed to be addressed. “So, do you wanna talk?” Kiyoomi asked, hands still massaging and playing with Atsumu’s hair. 

Atsumu hummed and cracked one eye open. “Wanna go for another round first?”

And really, who was Kiyoomi to refuse?

**Author's Note:**

> I have never related to hard to Omi tbh—don't we all have a kink for Atsumu's stupidly thick thighs??
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment and/or kudos, of course, share it with a friend if you'd like. 😁 You can find me on Twitter [@theobromaffeine](https://twitter.com/theobromaffeine) if you'd like to chat or yell at/with me. 
> 
> Let me know if you had a favourite scene or line in this and if you reckon there should be another part. 😉


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